


Accursed Ones

by JoelJansenD



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:07:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25288066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoelJansenD/pseuds/JoelJansenD
Summary: After the destruction of the Chantry and the unshackling of the mages, an Enchanter of the Circle of Kirkwall seeks her purpose as she tries to survive amidst the chaos.





	Accursed Ones

The eerie quiet of Kirkwall's Circle of Magi did little to silence the morning's fears of the youngest apprentices. The few Enchanters that remained tried their best to calm the children and make the day pass as normal, but they knew that any hope for this to be a day like any other was wasted. The Templars started to mobilise in the Gallows's courtyard the moment the disappearance of the Circle's mages was discovered. They were out for blood, it seemed, and no force in Kirkwall would be able to stop it. Not too long ago, First Enchanter Orsino and Knight-Commander Meredith fought alongside each other. The mages and Templars had found a common enemy in the Qunari, who launched an attack on Kirkwall after years of friction. But now, no common foe existed to unite these impossible allies.  
Joanna couldn't help but wonder how this all started. The Templars follow the Chantry's teaching, or so they claimed. "Magic exists to serve man", Andraste once spoke, "and never to rule over him." Is this what she meant? Did Andraste smile upon her Templars from the Maker's side as they tortured those who had received His' gift'? Fear had corrupted their loyalty, twisted it into something monstrous.  
A spiteful tremor rushed through Joanna's hand. But it was not the abuse they suffered at the hands of the Templars that angered her. Nor was it the time she spent locked away in the dark. Even the mindless and the dead could not anger her like her fellow mages did. How quickly they'd turned on the Chantry, denying the existence of their danger. They were ignorant or uncaring over the immense power they were burdened with, instead choosing to use it to instil fear in the hearts of the innocent. They used this fear for nothing but their own lust for power, their greed or their wrath. They were the ones who truly turned their backs on Andraste. "Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him."

The twisted grip on Joanna's staff rolled in the palm of her hand as she spun it around. Two dragons at the end danced around a crystal orb, which cast an amber hue over the wooden beasts. "Does it ever get any easier?" Joanna wondered, staring at the young mage in front of her. Today's lesson was one of the most important ones in her curriculum, but it always proved to be the end of innocence. Today was the day another mage would learn just how fragile life is. For most, it was their first confrontation with mortality.  
"Do you remember what I told you, Finn?" she asked the young mage. He seemed quiet, more so than usual. He was nervous. Who could blame him? He understood the importance of today's lesson, all while possibly world-shaking events were unfolding.  
"I do," the boy whispered softly.  
"Whatever happens, keep looking." Joanna showed the palm of her hand to the boy. She turned her staff around, landing its blade on her hand. She pressed her palm into the blade's tip, before cutting through, carving into her flesh. Finn was struggling. He fought to keep his eyes from turning away. "Our biggest enemies may lie in the Fade," Joanna continued, "but we are no more immune to this world than those without our gift." Finn nodded, still fighting the urge to look away. "Slow, deep breaths. But keep looking." She saw how Finn struggled to follow through. He raised his trembling hand to her's, but his breath was still too shallow. He couldn't do this. Not yet. "It's alright, sweetheart," Joanna said softly. She folded her hands together, away from Finn's eyes. When they unfolded, they were as clean as they were this morning. "You tried so well, Finn." The mage lunged at Joanna, wrapping his arms around her and sobbed into her robes. "It's alright, you'll get it next time."

Even Joanna needed four tries before she got anywhere near healing her mentor, Frederic. Anyone who could pull the energy deep from within themselves, while facing the truth of mortality, was a remarkable person. In her thirteen years as an Enchanter, she had only seen a handful of apprentices who passed this test on their first try. None of their stories were pretty, truth be told. They were the ones who discovered their magic when they accidentally set their houses on fire. They learned the fragility of life at a young age because they witnessed it first hand. Others were locked away for years in the dark because their parents feared them. They were denied the joys of life and saw no reason to care for it other than basic instincts. Ultimately, the ones who were broken by life were the most talented mages Joanna had ever seen. But they were also the ones who slipped away. Away from the Maker's side for eternity.  
The library would always remind Joanna of this. Eileen, one of the librarians, was an apprentice of hers. She was made Tranquil shortly after passing her Harrowing, which went against all rules the Circle abided by. It was the one time Joanna fought against the Templars. "Knight-Lieutenant's orders," they told her whenever she asked questions. She never got the answers she was looking for. Not directly, at least. Whenever Joanna saw Eileen, her heart stopped. She was beaten mercilessly by her parents for weeks before the Templars took her. It took Joanna months to get through to her. To help her. But when she finally did, she saw one of the most talented mages she had ever come across. None were surprised when she passed her Harrowing at nineteen years old. A few weeks later, she was found in the dungeons, bearing the Tranquil's Brand on her face.  
"Are you looking for something, Enchanter?" Eileen asked in the monotonous voice that could not be mistaken for anything but a Tranquil.  
"No, Eileen," said Joanna. Seeing her never got easier, no matter how often she saw her former apprentice. "I wanted to know how you were doing."  
"It's quiet here, more so than usual." Eileen looked at the books she was carrying. "I can clean the library now." Her lips curled into a smile, emptier than the darkest voids of the Fade. It was little more than a spasm, an echo of the emotions she once had. "Everyone went outside, where we're not supposed to go."  
"Has anyone told you why they went outside?" Joanna wanted to tell her why, but she knew Eileen wouldn't understand. She'd try to explain, only to have her heart broken again by the sight of one of the most gifted people she had ever met. Her brilliant mind was gone, never to come back. Her doubts faded when Eileen shook her head. "Too bad," she continued, feigning a smile as empty as Eileen's, "I've been dying to know, myself."

Strangely enough, the chapel was one of the last places in the Gallows where the ever-growing tension was hardly noticeable. Before today, mages and Templars would sit together and pretend to listen to some young lay sister's sermon as their minds wandered off to a farm, far away from here, where they'd spend the rest of their lives with the girl as she dedicated her heart to the word of Andraste. They longed solely out of a thirst for the unknown, far from what they knew and loathed, away from the tension and chaos.  
Joanna couldn't recall ever seeing the chapel as dark as today. The sun's dying lights barely reached the Gallows, all it did was paint the Chantry and Keep's silhouettes onto the fiery sky. The large, stone statue of the Maker's bride watched as hundreds of candles slowly burned up. The stumps remained, spread amongst the few candles that still softly burned. From one of the windows, she saw the Chantry in the distance, high above the Gallows. It was calming to think that the Chantry would remain untouched, whatever chaos may transpire down here. It would remain the last place in this city where the faithful could still find His light, uncorrupted by the anger that plagued Kirkwall. Untouched by the Qunari, the mages or the Templars. Throughout the years, it remained the one true beacon of hope for the city.  
Joanna turned to the altar and dropped to her knees. "Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter," she spoke softly. "Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just." Doubt weighed heavily on her heart. Was she truly praying for the Templars, after everything that had happened? Her students walked among the mages outside, fighting for their long-sought freedom. "Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow," she continued. "In their blood, the Maker's will is written." Never before had the Chant weighed this heavily on her. "In their blood," she repeated in her head. The Templar's dedicated their lives to Him. Were they expected to die for Him as well? Was that their sacrifice? Their price for true peace?  
The echoes of clunking metal pulled Joanna from her thoughts. She jumped up, tried to reach for her staff. A hulking figure, clad in the Templars' steel plate armour, stood in the opening, sword in hand. The visor of his helm covered his face. Her staff was too far away. Her fingers danced in the dark, producing a barrier growing stronger with every move. He pressed his open hand forward, holding his sword ready with the other. The barrier faded. "I'm not one of them," Joanna pleaded. Even she felt the futility of her words. She'd die an apostate, like all the others.  
"Jo?" asked the Templar in surprise. "Jo, is that you?" His voice rang familiar: commanding yet warm. "Maferath's balls! I thought you were one of Orsino's."  
"Hugh! Thank the Maker it's you," she tried to say quietly, but relief took control of her voice. "Why are you here?"  
"We need to clear the Gallows, Jo. I overheard the bitch's plans," he continued hastily. He beckoned Joanna to follow him.  
"What are you talking about?" she asked, struggling to keep up with the Templar.  
"She's requested the Right of Annulment. I don't know if it—"  
"What?" she yelled in surprise. "She can't... are you certain?"  
"I overheard Kerras bragging about it. Now, I'm not—"  
"She wants to kill us all?"  
"Jo, listen for a moment," he said sternly. "I don't think support has arrived yet, but I doubt Meredith is willing to wait, especially if Orsino continues to pull shit. Now, how many Enchanters stayed behind?"  
She was barely able to answer. Shock over the news had knocked the wind from her lungs. "Four, including me."  
"Fuck," uttered Hugh under his breath. "Alright, how many mages?"  
"I don't know. Eight, maybe nine? And before you ask, no apprentices over the age of twelve."  
"There are kids with Orsino right now? Shit." He wiped the sweat-drenched locks of blonde hair out of his face, clearly exhausted from the day's events. "Gather the Enchanters in the chapel," he continued. "I'll see if I can find some friends."

Edmond tapped his finger on the altar, increasingly more annoyed every he hit the stonework. Joanna tried her best to ignore his heavy sighs. The man was well-known for his lack of patience.  
"So when's this friend of yours coming?" asked Edmond.  
"Any moment now," Joanna answered, hiding her concern with a feigned smile, as she often did. He was supposed to be here by now, did something happen?  
"I can't sit around all night," continued Edmond. "I have more important—"  
"I assure you you don't, Enchanter," said Hugh as he walked into the chapel. "Sorry Jo, I got held up." The Enchanters looked at the Templar as he began to explain the issue at hand.  
"Bullshit," interrupted Edmond suddenly. "No chance that the Divine would approve!"  
"Meredith doesn't care for the Chantry," said Joanna. "How often has she gone against the Grand Cleric's wishes?"  
"We're talking about complete destruction! Not some trivial nonsense like what soup to serve on Fridays!"  
"And how many mages have been made Tranquil by Ser Alrik, Enchanter?" asked Hugh. "Against Chantry law, might I add! Or is that trivial nonsense as well?"  
"Child's play compared to Annulment! Say what you will about Meredith, but she's no fool. She knows that annulling the Circle will lead to Val Royeaux's interference."  
"She's gone mad, you daft shit!" yelled Hugh, smashing his metal-clad fist onto the altar.  
"Edmond, please," continued Joanna, "listen for once."  
"What, to some Templar nobody? It might be a trap, for all we know."  
"He's done more for us than any—" a bright, red flash lit up the candle-lit chapel. A loud explosion quickly followed, shattering the room's windows. Two columns of light, shooting up into the clouds, revealed nothing but ruin where the Chantry stood moments ago.


End file.
